Realistic or Modern Kill Nothing but Time | IC

[elytra]

"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories, kill nothing but time..."
​

Scene: Scene 1 (Daytime Scene)
Weather: Dreary; plenty of clouds in the sky, and it looks like its going to rain. The sort of weather that's a bit chill, enough to warrant a light jacket.
Scene Description: A morning scene, about 2 day until campers arrive. Things are quiet, and the groundskeeper has been driving people in to the camp consistently over the last 2 weeks. This is the first day everyone has been present on the grounds. With the kids arriving in a few days, this is the time to get set up!

Current Mystery: The Man in the Watchtower

Character Roster:
Xandria Mars
Isaak Moon
Jeremiah Johnson
Ambrose Verne
Euphrosyne Waldroup
Darling Paget
Brett Watts
Oscar Waller
Dakota Braaten
Oluwaseyfunmi Musa
Maya Sloan
Marlo McCaffrey
Jay Blythe

Post Header Should Include: Character Name, Location, Interactions (Tag Player OR GM if NPC), Mentions (Tag Player OR Gm if NPC)

 

[elytra]

"You know, some people say that when the camp was shut down, some people just didn't leave. I'm not talking about the ghosts; there's tales of one of the campers staying behind and living in the forest like an animal. They call him the man in the watchtower. Apparently, he lives in one of the old fire towers out in the woods. I've heard he's been waiting for new kids to arrive so he can lure them to their doom, so they can feel the same pain he did that fateful night at the first camp..."

It's time to start the summer off for the first group on the Sunnyshores camp property since '95! Except, things start to go wrong right away right from the moment the staff set foot on the campus. Miles into the forest with no cell service to speak of, it's looking to be an interesting summer, especially when its found they aren't the only people in the area.

Current Mystery Events: TBA

 

[sadwizardvibes]

Marlo McCaffrey / Sunset Overlook Trail / No Interactions (yet)​

The long hours of scattered light peak through the million clambering leaves, each one vying for the attention of the early morning sunshine that is too shy to arrive fully. The dirt on marked trails and wilderness alike had not yet been warmed by the expected sun, instead, staying cool from the presence of consistent clouds. Marlo knew these trails as intimately as they knew the veins that coursed across the now-tan skin of their forearm, thin lines of blue a topographical map on the expanse of skin. The air was fresh and clean and chill as it always was this time of year, not yet tinted by the campfire and the sweet scent of burnt marshmallows (and after hours, the pungent particular smell of marijuana).

Marlo’s boots were born before they were and would likely surpass him. Goodwill often housed older L.L. Bean goods, boots notwithstanding, so they made sure to buy every six-dollar pair they came across. The thick rubber tread knowingly upon the beaten path that began the Sunset Overlook Trail. For several weeks, he had started clearing out the area. The work was seemingly endless and Marlo had gained several pounds of muscle from the strenuous work of brushing and draining, never mind the blowdowns.

It was work Marlo didn’t mind, though. It was work Marlo looked forward to, work he did until his hands were bleeding and his body was sore and stiff. It was work that exhausted him to his core and gave him such deep sleep he barely remembered why he would wake up screaming.

Luckily at this point, essentially everything had been done. They had checked each trail (well, mostly, the woods were dark and deep and there was only so much time in a day) as often as they could and all trails were about ready to go. At this point, it was ensuring everything stayed intact throughout the summer, ensuring everything was safe and stable enough for the parading feet of nervous and excited children. The night before, strong winds blew down brush and branches, so Marlo cleared those off as he trekked upwards to join the grass blossoming at the top of the overlook.

Any other morning, the skies would have been almost blue, still smeared with the soft pastels of sunrise from the other side of the world– but today, no such views were given. Grey covered the star that winked in and out and his blood stopped pumping so hard as stood still, mossy green eyes scanning the area for anything new or out of place.

All was seemingly well, average, as it always was.

Marlo exhaled a simple sigh of relief, moving to sit on the grass. Their oversized beige flannel shielded the soft breeze, the morning a beautiful and crisp sixty six degrees. They should have brought a jacket but having already been overheated from movement, he had recklessly decided against it. His leg hair was tickled by the wind, exposed from the knee down with bruises and scrapes marring all different areas. Despite the chill, a smile stretches across his lips, wide and saved only for the quietest of moments alone in the woods. His foot kicks out, hands behind him, ready to find ground and grip blades of grass between his fingers but finding–

Something.

Marlo’s brows knit into the middle of his forehead as he turns onto his knees so his back faces the overlook. A muddied blue book with a dragonfly engraved on the cover lie there at the end of the trail. Where he had just cleared.

Like.

Just cleared.

Dirty fingers touch an already dirtied cover, this book looking like it had gone through a war of its own. Marlo’s fingertips reach cautiously to graze the cover, fake leather. Marlo hears movement, as slight as it is, in the shrubbery– somewhere– somewhere, close. How close? Could be anything. Squirrels, rabbits, porcupines, mon– no. Not those. A tremor starts to move up his arm. The machete hangs comfortably at his side.

“Hello? W-Who’s there? You— you... dropped this?”

 

[elytra]

Dakota Braaten
Medical Cabin | Interacting with Darling Paget ( enchanticleer ) | Mentions N/A​

The camp had already had its fair share of problems.

As the groundskeeper, Dakota had been present for at least most of them, if not hopefully all of them, though he wouldn’t have been shocked if there was one that had somehow evaded his notice when he’d been running around the campus trying to keep everything under wraps. Doors had bad hinges, drawers wouldn’t open, pipes burst…it was like the place had decided that, despite being new, it needed to give them something to do. Not that he was ungrateful; keeping busy made things easier. Lounging around felt like wasted time, and he didn’t like wasting time.

Frankly, though? He’d take wasting time over this bullshit.

He stood in the medical cabin’s private room, staring upward at the ceiling. More specifically, he stared at the noticeable hole in the ceiling. A shingle fell to the floor, overlaid with the angered chittering of the squirrels that had wormed their way in and caused the problem in the first place. When Darling had informed him of the issue, he’d assumed it would be fixable. This? This wasn’t fixable.

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then let it out, one hand running through his hair while the other was on his hip, resting above where his hatchet was. What he was feeling was nothing short of flabbergasted. When he’d taken the job at the camp, there had been the assumption that such a new establishment would have no major issues to speak of. A few loose hinges here and there, but nothing too bad. Not squirrels chewing through the ceiling.

The silence stretched as he tried to think of something to say, briefly glancing over his shoulder at Darling before looking back at the issue at hand. Alright. He couldn’t very well leave her in here, that was for certain, not with the roof the way it was. And he couldn’t fix the roof with what he had. Would have to drive a fair bit to find a place with the supplies he needed, in fact. So, what was the solution?

“...This--” The hand that was pushing up his baseball cap to run over his hair in bafflement went gesturing at the hole in a very wavy manner “--This ain’t what I was expecting when you said you had a problem.”

He fell silent another second, gnawing at his lower lip, before turning fully to face Darling, both hands now on his hips. “I mean…fuck.” He wasn’t usually so unprofessional. He blamed the fact he’d just been given an impossible task. “Can’t imagine what you did to piss ‘em off.” There was a brief beat of silence before he tacked on. “Alright. How quick can you pack your things here?”

Looked like he’d be sleeping on the sofa in his cabin for a bit. He didn’t do much sleeping in the first place, though, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss.

 

[birdgeoisie]

scroll

a&c supervisor

xandria.

location

sunset overlook trail

interactions

marlo sadwizardvibes

mentions

n/a

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

She thought she might smash the watch if she had to listen to it for a second longer. Or maybe start crying. It was a tossup, really. Every limb felt fatigued, though she hadn’t done anything strenuous, nor did she have any particularly active dreams. None that she could remember, at least.

Like there was heavy weight hung from each of her joints, she slumped herself to her elbows, then to a crumpled sitting position. Her head pounded, but that wasn’t anything new, and the way her throat felt tight wasn’t exactly news either. Every morning was another dreadfully pitiful struggle to convince herself to get out of bed. Then again, these sheets were scratchy enough an incentive. She should have brought her own.

The cabin already had her things strewn about from the last two days of unpacking and “me-time,” as she’d call it. More like barricading herself away from everyone else and basking in the isolation. When she thought about having to put on a smile and really charm her way through a conversation with any of the other staff, it kind of made her want to dive into the lake and maybe never come back up.

But today, after wiping her eyes free of would-be tears, and swallowing down any of the lingering trepidation she felt when she looked out her window- and getting dressed and putting on makeup because she wasn’t about to look like the mess that she felt -she had decided it was time to get out. Explore a little. The kids arrived soon, which meant she really ought to get to know some of her fellow trappees in the woods.

Head hung, watching her boots press prints into the trail ground as she walked, Xandria tapped a nail at the front of the walkman in her pocket. Her jacket was maybe a little too thick for the current weather, but it would make for a decent blanket once she got to the overlook part of the Sunset Overlook trail. A little too early for a sunset, and definitely too cloudy for a sun at all, but even now her surroundings were alight with color and shadows she was already slicing into finite strokes of paint in her mind’s eye.

It helped to think about that, and the tinny sounds of a thrifted cassette in her ears, rather than think about her actual location. Sunnyshores; where dreams come to die and your life is ruined. Or you get burnt to a crisp. In the short time she’d been here, Xan had already doubted the decision approximately 21 times. Wait, shit, did this make 22? No no, more like 21 and a half.

The small collapsible easel in her tote knocked against her side as she walked, she lifted her head at the sound of- dear god, was that a voice? Of course someone else had to be here. No time like the present to get your shit together, right? Xan dug into her brain to flip the “personable” switch on. It was a little dusty, and sort of got stuck halfway.

Now, Xandria wouldn’t have thought about scaring some random person on this trail, especially not if she had noticed the machete, but she was more distracted by the book in the person’s hands. Oh, now this had potential to be hysterical. She crept up while it seemed he was distracted with said book, quiet as her boots would allow on the soft-packed dirt, until the moment felt perfect to strike. Leaning forward, she spoke up:

“Boo!” Xan smirked, “Nice diary, dude.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[fairyfawn]

content warning for animal death​

MOOD:
i don't like it here

OUTFIT:
clicky

LOCATION:
Red Trail

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
open!

tags

TL;DR morning walk gone wrong

tl;dr

ambrose

security guard

The weather today is perfect; at least to Ambrose it was perfect. He never was a big fan of the hot weather so cloudy and rainy days are welcome. The hot weather usually makes Ambrose feel icky and gross and it’ll mess up his hair. And he’s very particular about his hair. Well, rain will also mess up his hair but it's much better than this hot weather. But he’s still going to be enjoying the pleasant scenery of the woods the whole time he’s here at the camp of course.

Majority of his job will consist of making sure kids aren’t sneaking out at night to run off in the woods in the dark.It won’t be a problem for Ambrose given if he actually does his job and doesn’t get distracted or do his own thing. But the kids have not arrived yet so he's going to be doing his own thing. He’s never really been able to hold down a job for very long and if one were to ask why he bounces from job to job, Ambrose will just say he grew bored of said job. Maybe how he landed a job as a security guard is a mystery in itself.

But as of right now, Ambrose had been settled on his bed with one of his many crossword books, lost in thought as he wondered what word would fill in the blank. His mind drew a blank and the guard let out a frustrated huff.

He’ll finish up that latest crossword puzzle later. Maybe this time he’ll finish it without cheating by flipping to the very back of the book to look at the answers. Maybe he’ll start reading one of the ghost books he brought along with him. Later though. For now, though, Ambrose will be taking a nice walk on one of the trails. A peaceful morning walk.

Ambrose slid off of his bed before emerging from his room. He walked out of the Big House and stepped outside, feeling the slight chill in the air. It didn't bother him though. But now he was wondering which trail he should walk on. After some brief contemplation, Ambrose settled on doing the walk on the Red Trail.

The Red Trail is probably not the best trail to be taking a walk on in this cloudy weather but oh well. With that, Ambrose was now on his way to begin his morning walk on the Red Trail.

–-------------- –------------- –------------

The security guard was unsure of how far he’s walked on the trail by now, but he wasn't going to turn back just yet. He’ll walk for just a little while longer before he would turn back to head to the camp. Ambrose trudged along the trail, enjoying the cool air and the overall peaceful scenery of the trail, it’s very relaxing. As he was walking and taking in his surroundings, he noticed something on the ground: a rather large pile of leaves.

Hmmm, did someone rake those leaves up and leave them there or did they flutter to the ground into a pile on their own? Ah, never mind that. It's just a pile of leaves and nothing more. As he walked a bit further, he saw something: a deer.

He came to a sudden halt when he noticed the deer, pausing his walk to quietly observe the deer whilst hoping that he wouldn’t end up scaring it off. The deer was standing right next to the leaf pile as it started to chew on some grass. Ambrose gazed in awe as he observed the deer as it munched away, and he was thankful that it hadn't run off. As long as he stands still then the deer will not get spooked right?

The leaf pile began to move, just a little stir at first, before it rose up in a swift motion with leaves falling backwards and something began to creep out of the open hole that laid beneath. A thin, bony gray arm reached out from the hole and made a grabbing motion at one of the deer’s back legs. Long claws grabbed hold of the deer's hind leg and it began to drag the deer towards the hole, the deer having landed to the ground with an audible thud.

The deer began to shrill, the noises filling the once quiet air. Ambrose was shocked, the arm had appeared so suddenly and as quickly as it had appeared, it was quickly dragging the deer down with it. Ambrose couldn't do anything but watch the scene unfold. The arm and the deer were becoming less and less visible as they went down to wherever the hole in the ground leads. His heart began to beat fast, which got Ambrose to thinking that whatever this thing was might be able to pick up the sound of a quickened heartbeat.

Both the deer and the arm disappeared down the hole before the leaf pile lowered and it was like nothing had happened. It was like the deer had never been there, and Ambrose could no longer hear the deer's panicked noises. But he could hear the racing of his own heart and his shaky breath.

Ambrose stood there for what felt like a long time with his eyes fixated on the leaf pile, wondering if that thing had been aware of his presence, wondering if the leaf pile will shoot upwards once more and he’ll see the rest of what had dragged that deer down. But nothing happened. All was quiet; the leaf pile was still. And Ambrose’s brain was still trying to process what had just happened.

Was it a person? Some kind of predatory animal? Or was it something else? But what could it be then? Ambrose wasn't sure because he didn't really get a good look at the arm other than that it was bony and colored gray. And that it had long claws on its hands.

Should he keep this to himself? Or should he find someone and tell them what had happened? Would anyone even believe him if he were to say that something came up from the ground and dragged a deer inside the hole before disappearing?

It's time for Ambrose to go back to camp now. He swallowed hard and started to turn around to make the walk back, still shaken up by what he had just seen. Ambrose half expected for the leaves to rise up once again and then for the thing to crawl out. Though there was no rustle of the leaf pile, and it was quiet as if it had always been quiet.

He didn't dare look back at the pile again. Ambrose started to walk away from the area, eyes gazing around at his surroundings now as he was hoping that nothing would happen to him, and he will make it back to camp safely. He's okay and he's going to make it back to camp okay.

Out of all the trails that this camp has, Ambrose just had to pick the Red Trail.

code by valen t.

 

[sadwizardvibes]

Marlo McCaffrey / Sunset Overlook Trail / birdgeoisie - Xandria ​

Marlo was so fine-tuned to the pulse of the forest that he felt genuinely embarrassed he hadn’t noticed the company.

The leaves had rustled and for a moment, Marlo felt stuck. The thoughts that should have first rushed through his head were ones that worried this belonged to a camper— who was somehow here early? Who was walking alone in the woods? Who disappeared, or just as insane, was never there to begin with?

The thoughts that actually barreled forward were dipped in paranoia, irrational with the suggestion to succumb and revert and regress to a person who stuttered and hunched over to be smaller.

He had to fucking get it together.
As the finality of that statement sank in and Marlo willed himself to straighten his spine and, in fact, get it the fuck together, an unexpected voice came from besides him.

Marlo didn’t scream— not exactly.

His entire body jumped at realizing someone was there (Xandria, arts and crafts, cool hair— not a total stranger, thank god), a true and blue gasp of surprise escaping his throat followed by a shuddering, low, “Jesus fucking Christ, holy shit.”

Their short fingernails dug harshly into the dirt and faux leather simultaneously. Marlo takes a moment: inhaling, exhaling, then looking up with red stained cheeks and a vaguely annoyed look. “You know,” his voice is much calmer, if a touch irritated, “You shouldn’t sneak up on people in the woods. Aside from it being, ya know, rude— some of us carry weapons!” He points to his hip, where the tool sat sheathed against his thigh.

(All right, it was a huge stretch that he would have ever pulled his machete out on anyone ever but he felt dumb and maybe she didn’t know that.)

What he hadn’t expected was the interaction distracting him enough to lose the nerves and be able to focus again, coming back into his head. It had made him feel more himself again and for that, Marlo felt like he couldn’t be too upset. Pushing himself onto his feet, Marlo grabs the journal on the way up.

“My diary isn’t blue.” He lets Xan know semi-seriously, frowning down at the book that was becoming even more of a question mark. “I just… found it. I took a break from trail maintenance up here. I wonder…” where the fuck it came from, how it got here, “whose it is?” Marlo finishes his sentence softly, standing next to Xan while flipping the book open.

“J.L.?” Marlo asks out loud absentmindedly, noting the initials in the corner. Their eyes widen in surprise at the presence of a photo tucked onto the first page. An older one, at that. How is it still preserved? None of the faces of the three people look familiar and he almost turns the page again before he notices their t-shirts.

“What the fuck?” Marlo felt sickness and dread pool at the pit of his stomach, like looking at this was wrong, looking to Xan in confusion,“…. Is this an incredibly elaborate joke, or something?” It seemed like a waste of resources, if it was, and he was ready to rant at her about it. Still, his voice sounded oddly hopeful- because a yes would make this make sense.

 

[birdgeoisie]

scroll

a&c supervisor

xandria.

location

sunset overlook trail

interactions

marlo sadwizardvibes

mentions

n/a

Xan only wanted to get a rise out of this person, maybe start a little banter- a fun jokey scare was ripe for the acquaintance-making. Yet the energy of the situation was anything but lighthearted. There was something in the air that immediately sunk its way direct to her bones. A shiver clawed at her spine. It felt off, felt wrong, and she couldn’t shake it. Maybe it was because this guy look scared, and not just jumpscare levels of scared. Xandria didn’t cause this; she couldn’t even if she wanted to.

She recognized them, actually: Marlo, the ranger tagging along with the science people to make sure no one dies in the woods. Ironic precautions, she can’t help but think.

Xan’s casual smirk slowly faded as she took Marlo in. The voice, the measured breath- that was genuine heart-palpitating terror, wasn’t it? Her skin prickled, and for a moment she worried that the horizon was about to slip sideways and she’d see flames licking the distant sky. But it doesn’t, and everything stays still, and Marlo is pointing to a big ass knife on their hip.

It was her turn to compose herself, setting her jaw and grinding her teeth for half a second. This was just old anxieties welling up. Nothing to worry about. Hands curled tight into fists in her pockets, Xan straightened up from her scaring position, shifting weight to one leg and cocking her head.

“Yeah, man, I mean- me too. Hate blue. More of a periwinkle person myself. Maybe a Pantone Provence on an off-day," Shs deadpanned. Interesting to note that there was no denial of diary possession. Just that this diary, in particular, is not theirs. Which, on second thought, is a hell of a lot weirder. Was this ranger some kinda creep? Maybe that feeling she had was actually her gut telling her to run before she got butchered in the woods. What a fun coincidence that would be for the family. But that was a completely irrational thought, because this place definitely did background checks on their staff. She hoped.

“You just . . . found it?” She can’t help the breathless chuckle that escapes her. This sounded ridiculous. “Don’t you love mysterious diaries-” She cut herself off when he moved to stand beside her. “Oh- uh, yeah, okay, guess I’m looking at this now . . .” What an immediate gesture of camaraderie, and one she wasn’t expecting. She supposed she was part of this two-person investigative team now, on the case of the Sunset Overlook Diary: Lost and Found.

And she wishes that it could end there with a stupid joke. She really, really wishes that. Because reality is a motherfucker and so much worse. It’s weird enough that this journal looks ancient and has . . . were those blood stains? Maybe it was just paint (but she doesn’t really believe that).

Xan, who had previously been tensely leaning slightly away, now pressed her shoulder against Marlo’s side as she tried to get a closer look. Her eyes went wide, brows knitting up. This wasn’t real. No, this photo had to be fake. Without asking, she reached and plucked the photo up, hoping the tremble in her hand wasn’t too obvious. Day three and she was already crumbling in front of a stranger- maybe a new record for her.

She ground her molars and willed the jumble of terror and sadness back down, eyes locked on one particular face in the photo. It took her a few seconds to respond to Marlo’s suggestion. “A joke?” She swallowed, voice wavering. Yeah, that had to be it. “If it’s a joke, I’d like to have a pretty fuckin’ uncivil conversation with whoever’s behind it. Leaving photos of someone’s dead family isn’t my kind of funny.”

She let a slew of pent up feelings wash over her for only a moment, before taking a deep breath and finally meeting Marlo's gaze. "Sorry. That was a little intense. I'm sure it's just a stupid prank. I mentioned maybe coming out here to paint, before, maybe someone overheard and thought this would be, I don't know . . . some comedy brilliance shit." Xan choked out a laugh, because she didn't spend two decades on-and-off talking to shrinks to believe something weird was going on. "We should probably, just, like, burn that or something."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Isaak Moon
Location: Fire Tower | Interactions: Open | Mentions: n/a​

Before the kids arrived, Isaak had decided to get at least some level of familiarity with the trails around camp, so he'd spent most of his time hiking. Today the weather really wasn't in his favor--a little wet and gray--but he had good boots and his raincoat and his walking stick, so he went out anyway. Better than sitting inside and going over the rec cabin for the fiftieth time.

Even in the dismal weather the forest was beautiful. The mists blanketed the trees, warping the path into something strange and soft, and Isaak had to stop and check his map often. It was definitely just because he didn't want to get lost, and not because his knee was acting up on the long, upward hike. Absolutely not.

Isaak winced slightly as he slipped on a patch of mud as he started the steeper ascent up to the firewatch tower, and was extremely thankful for his walking stick. He was less grateful for it when he had to navigate a patch of rock and climb over it without dropping the stick.

This used to be easy, he thought with resentment. It was a lie. Hiking had never really been easy, but had never been this hard before his accident.

The fire tower was, naturally, on one of the higher hills in the area, and Isaak didn't approach it when he summited. It had been abandoned so long that he assumed it was unsafe to climb. He found a boulder to sit and stretch and drink water first instead, and looked out over the tops of the cloudy forest. It would be a beautiful hike on a sunny day, he was sure. It was still very pretty, in a somber, fall sort of way.

Surveying the landscape as he was, it wasn't long before Isaak saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look, expecting a bird, or maybe a squirrel, but instead--

Instead he saw several small, round creatures scuttling around the area around the firewatch tower, collecting little rocks, before hopping up the stairs of the tower and climbing up, hopping up in a little line like large ants. Isaak closed his eyes very tightly and then opened them again.

The little creatures were still there.

Very carefully, Isaak got up and crept closer.

It took the little creatures a moment to notice his approach, and once they did one hurled a rock at him, but they mostly just hupped up the stairs with more intensity. (It would have been very generous, Isaak thought, to say that they actually managed to go faster.

Isaak followed them to the tower, and found that despite its worn appearance, the tower seemed solid enough. He tested the stairs carefully, but they weren't loose, or rotting, and held his weight as he followed the creatures up the stairs.

At the top, they skittered into the shade in front of the door into the tower and hurled their rocks at it before scampering to the ledge and leaping off of it. Isaak followed them to the edge (and got a rock hurled at his ankle for his trouble), and peered down to watch the ones who had jumped scuttle off, unhurt, to fetch more rocks.

Baffling.

Isaak turned back to study the fire tower door, and then went to it, curious to see what they might be leaving rocks for.

 

[dear.szmm]

Maya Sloan
Location: Seven Stones Trail | Interaction: cadence - Jerry | Mentions: none
tw: brief mention of blood​

Maya was making good time.

Yesterday it had taken her four minutes longer to reach this part of the trail. Perhaps it was the cool temperature or the foreboding grey clouds looming overhead, encouraging her to set a new personal best and quickly jog back to camp. Maybe it was her new running partner.

(She doubted it.)

They were halfway to the waterfalls, nearing the small wooden footbridge that came across the stream before they reached the densest part of the forest. The path was rough underfoot; dry but uneven, and at times thin enough that one must run one behind the other. Maya insisted that she would run in front when it came to it – she would only develop an immovable disdain for Jerry if he were to slow her down, never mind if he got them lost.

She kept her eyes firmly planted on the innumerable trees directly ahead, her back straight and breathing steady. She followed no map; she insisted that any trail simply followed to a specific point would simply lead them back to whence they came.

They were this far into their morning run before the running shoes she had bought only days earlier were rubbing her little toe; every step she sprung reminding her of the beloved pair she had tossed in the trash after the sole wore thin. Maya had fought with herself for weeks, barely deciding to change her well-worn men’s trail shoes for a bright, clean pair of sale-rack women’s Nikes. Well, Maya, good job, she scolded herself, feet still pounding the dirt path underneath. That is the last time I trust marketing directed at women. There’s more room in my grandma’s coffin than in these fucking sneakers.

Maya’s pace slowed to a gradual stop, emitting a frustrated grunt, hands on her hips. Fuck those four minutes. She’d run an extra mile later in the evening.

“Sorry, sorry.” she clamoured, perching herself on a tree stump surrounded in fungi. Her bare ankles were brushed by stray plants and moss, saturated in morning dew.

“My fucking toe, man! Hurts like a bitch.”

She yanked the disobedient shoe off, dropping it to the ground, her front teeth biting down on her bottom lip. A small patch of blood, no bigger than a dime, seeped through the cloth on her small toe. Grimacing, she pinched the fabric with two fingers, unsticking it from the raw skin.

“What a joke,” she seethed, spitting her words with aggravated venom, “this will haunt me for the rest of the fucking week.”

She looked up at Jerry, stone-faced. “Got a plaster, or you just happy standing there like a wet noodle?”

 

[cadence]

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  mentions: n/a

  
  
  
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  seven stones trail with maya
  dear.szmm

  
  
  

Leave it to Jerry to ruin a perfectly peaceful morning run.

The man hadn’t been quiet once since he’d met up with Maya at the Seven Stones Trail marker. And while some might find it difficult to hold a conversation mid-run — too busy practicing proper breathing techniques or even just wanting to enjoy the beauty of the trail in silence, Jerry had no qualms at all about speaking whatever thoughts came to his mind the second they came to him. He talked about how he’d spent the first few days getting ready at Sunnyshores — how he‘d finished decorating his cabin on the first day and spent the days following exploring. He talked about the previous night: how he was watching the sunset on the Sunset Overlook Trail when he saw the fattest toad he’d ever seen in his life. At one point, he went on a passionate tangent on Taylor Swift lore, no longer caring if Maya was listening to him or not. When he wasn’t talking, he was humming. When he wasn’t humming, he was talking again — be it to sing some lyrics of the song he was singing or to point out every funny looking rock, or plants, or animals with the excitement of someone who’d never seen them before.


”Oh, thank God,” Jerry doubled over with his hands on his knees when Maya came to a stop ahead of him, They’d gone through a good half of the trail with minimal breaks, and while Jerry was sure they could’ve fared longer, he was thankful for the break. ”All good,” he dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand, still catching his breath. ”You good over there?” He asked, moving closer to Maya when he felt he could breathe again. He just watched when she slung off her shoe, cringing at the sight of blood on her sock. ”I do not envy you right now,” he agreed when she said it’d haunt her, knowing good and well how horrible foot injuries were regardless of minor they seemed. A flush of pink came over his cheeks at being called a wet noodle, but the insult clearly worked. ”Oh, right,” he mumbled, shrugging off his backpack to search inside. He didn’t normally pack a bag but he wanted to be prepared for a longer trail than usual — especially when it seemed it could rain, and now he was glad he did. He hummed as he searched, pulling out an unopened and slightly-squished box of dinosaur bandaids and his favorite water bottle out of the sleeve just moments later. ”Hope you like dinosaurs. They’re all I’ve got.” He tossed her the box with one hand and drank water from the other.

He looked a rock to sit on while he sipped his water, backpack tossed carelessly at his feet until they were ready to leave again. He looked around while Maya bandaged her foot, once again humming the song he’d been humming before. He dusted off some of the pebbles and leaves on one of the rocks so he could sit, but before he did, a glint of something in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

Sitting on a moss-covered rock just a step away was a rusty key. ”There’s a key here,” he said to Maya, and picked up the key to rub off some of the dirt and rust that had collected on it. ”What d’ya think it goes to?” He asked, shoving his water bottle in the waist of his pants and thumbing over the number twelve etched into the key. He didn’t think there were even twelve cabins at camp, so that sort of ruled out the possibility of it belonging to one of the buildings. ”Looks kinda old. And… ’placed-there,” he added as a second-thought, thinking on top of a rock was a very odd place to lose a key. If someone had dropped it on their hike then it’d be on the ground, right? He handed the key to Maya and hoped she might recognize who it belonged to. ”We can bring it to lost and found later,” he eventually decided, shrugging. ”Want to keep going?” He asked Maya and grabbed his backpack. It was about equal distance either direction and Jerry thought it’d be a waste if they came all that way for nothing.

jeremiah j.

counselor

yooo what up

@Uxie
@Uxie

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ClownPope]

mood

❝Why do now what you can get done tomorrow?❞

location

Big House > Fire Pit

interactions

Open

mentions

No one

Brett Watts

It took Brett longer to get up that morning than he'd like to admit. Actually having a solid bed to sleep in made him realize how tired he actually was and after settling into camp late the night before he'd passed right out. Despite this he still didn't feel fully refreshed when he woke up.

The cook was sitting at one of the long tables in the dinning area of the big house's main room, his trusty cookbook, a notebook and a calendar splayed out in front of him as he hunched over. Writing down and planning future meals for the campers. He may as well get it out of the way now when there was some peace and quiet.

Quietly murmuring to himself as he flipped through pages, glancing back and forth. He was beginning to like planning things out. Usually in all his past cooking positions it was all small stuff, a set menu. That wasn't the part he was annoyed by. It was time. Scrambling around as orders come in one after another. Nope, not this time. Just make the stuff, put it out, relax. He was hoping this would be much better than restaurant work.

After a few moments he leaned back, placing his hands flat on the table and letting out a deep sigh as he stared off at the ceiling. Brett was glad he wouldn't have to cook for a huge crowd for a couple days still. He did though offer to make dinner for the rest of the staff that was here till then. Leaving a note on the door of the big house saying what time he'd have things out. He was hoping to get to introduce himself to some of the staff but it seemed as soon as they were let loose everyone had scampered off into the woods. Oh well, he thought, there would be plenty of time.

For now he decided it was time for some air. Shutting leaving his stuff on the table his pulled on a sweatshirt and walked out into the cloud riddled morning. Squinting as he stared upwards again. Almost daring the clouds to spill open. But the gray didnt budge so he made his way down towards the lake, remembering seeing some nice looking chairs by the fire pit that were practically calling to him.

coded by reveriee

Spoiler: Plain text version

Brett Watts​

Mood: "Why do now what you can get done tomorrow?"
Location: Big House > Fire pit
Interactions: Open
Mentions: No one

It took Brett longer to get up that morning than he'd like to admit. Actually having a solid bed to sleep in made him realize how tired he actually was and after settling into camp late the night before he'd passed right out. Despite this he still didn't feel fully refreshed when he woke up.

The cook was sitting at one of the long tables in the dinning area of the big house's main room, his trusty cookbook, a notebook and a calendar splayed out in front of him as he hunched over. Writing down and planning future meals for the campers. He may as well get it out of the way now when there was some peace and quiet.

Quietly murmuring to himself as he flipped through pages, glancing back and forth. He was beginning to like planning things out. Usually in all his past cooking positions it was all small stuff, a set menu. That wasn't the part he was annoyed by. It was time. Scrambling around as orders come in one after another. Nope, not this time. Just make the stuff, put it out, relax. He was hoping this would be much better than restaurant work.

After a few moments he leaned back, placing his hands flat on the table and letting out a deep sigh as he stared off at the ceiling. Brett was glad he wouldn't have to cook for a huge crowd for a couple days still. He did though offer to make dinner for the rest of the staff that was here till then. Leaving a note on the door of the big house saying what time he'd have things out. He was hoping to get to introduce himself to some of the staff but it seemed as soon as they were let loose everyone had scampered off into the woods. Oh well, he thought, there would be plenty of time.

For now he decided it was time for some air. Shutting leaving his stuff on the table his pulled on a sweatshirt and walked out into the cloud riddled morning. Squinting as he stared upwards again. Almost daring the clouds to spill open. But the gray didnt budge so he made his way down towards the lake, remembering seeing some nice looking chairs by the fire pit that were practically calling to him.
/SPOILER

 

[_em_]

scroll

camper

kali.

mood

apathetic

outfit

whatever she found on the floor, tbh

location

cabin 3

interactions

n/a

tags

n/a

Another year, another camp.

The truck’s faux leather was comfortable enough, albeit stiff. Kali was looking out the passenger window, one earbud in, making small talk with the person driving her to ‘cabin three’, apparently. The sky was overcast- a slight breeze rustling the greenery. She parted from the truck with a quick ‘thanks’ and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Shouldering her large duffle, she entered the cabin she’d be calling home.

Which bunk to pick…

The one in the back looked nice. She made a bee-line, tossing her bag up top. This was usually the point where she’d take out her phone, but seeing as that wasn’t an option…time for a walk. She let out a big sigh; let the summer “fun” begin.

As she was sitting down on the front steps to retie her sneakers, she noticed something sticking out from underneath a rock- she reached for it without thinking twice, assuming it was money, only to find a large, worn piece of paper that unfolded into a map. She studied it for a moment, noting a big red circled area just off one of the trails, and decided to pocket it for later. Probably just a left over relic from a treasure hunt in years past, but could be fun to look into later.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[elytra]

NPC Post
??? | Firewatch Tower B | Interacting with Isaak Moon ( wickedlittlecritta )​

As the creatures picked things up, they seemed to shift shape with them, seeming to mimic them in the way a shadow would. For the most part, they seemed unbothered with Isaak, more focused on getting up the steps, which looked like it took most of the effort they could muster, being as small as they were. Some glanced his way every now and then, and occasionally one would make their displeasure known by hurling something at him. Otherwise, they kept to themselves.

The rocks hit methodically against the worn wood of the door, organized enough to make the noise rhythmic as they continued in their task. They didn't stop when Isaak was in front of the door; instead, they continued, seeming content to just let some of the pebbles hit him. The force at which they were being thrown wasn't all that hard, not even leaving dents in the wood or chipping off the already decrepit-looking paint that remained on the structure.

The only thing that stopped them was the door suddenly swinging open into the interior of the tower. The little creatures squeaked in distress. Some proceeded to jump right off the edge rather than throw their stones, now disorderly, while others took the time to throw their final stone before hurling themselves off the structure. Those who were too slow would find themselves being swept off the side vigorously by a broom, held by the man who'd opened the door in the first place.

He held the broom like a weapon, hitting at the creatures with fervor. "Get! Go!" One of the shadow creatures managed to grab ahold of the bristles of the broom, holding on for dear life, but was ultimately unable to hold on as the man held the broom over the edge of the banister and shook it, hitting the handle against the beam.

Satisfied that the creatures were properly disposed of, the broom was placed down at his side as he leaned on it, attention finally finding its way to Isaak, who he'd moved past in order to get rid of the little creatures. His hair looked a mess, wisps of brown sticking up all over the place. Freckles covered his face- or at least the half of it that wasn't hidden by a navy blue face mask -and he looked relatively neat for a man who'd just come out of a fire tower that had been out of commission for years, in a t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots fitting of someone who decided to camp out in the area.

He squinted at Isaak, seeming to assess him for a moment. "You-" His free hand reached out, poking Isaak in the shoulder. "-aren't supposed to be here yet. Shops closed, y'know? I'm not set up." There was a pause, but ultimately he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back on the wood bannister behind him. "But it's fine, I guess. Plans change. I'm nothing if not adaptable. Want to come in? You look like you could benefit from sitting a bit."

It doesn't seem as if he's even considered introducing himself, nor asking Isaak to introduce himself in return. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to simply invite the other in, not bothering to acknowledge the fact he'd just swept a bunch of small, shadowy creatures off the porch of the tower.

 

[erzulie]

scroll

Shea

forest; off trail

n/a

Here

There was truly something peaceful about being surrounded by nature. There was a certain sense of tranquility that couldn’t be achieved when surrounded by other humans. It was ironic that he, someone who favored cleanliness and order above all else, enjoyed being amongst the elements. His field could be quite isolated but isolation was where Oluwaseyfunmi thrived. It was why he was also so eager to do field work. Traveling was an added bonus of course, there was nothing better than visiting different places and witnessing some unforgettable sights.

The forest that Shea was currently within was definitely beautiful. He walked through the vast forest with his usual gear and something extra. In his bag were the ear tags that would help keep track of his current focus, Maine’s very own New England Cottontail. The population was slowly but steadily dwindling due to the impact of deforestation and illegal hunting. Shea was determined to reverse the wrongs that plagued the small population. It has taken him sometime to locate a group of them, a mother and her kits. There had to be more near by, being that rabbits were social creatures. A small smile appeared on his face as he thought of his bunnies, Lola and Buggs. They were at home with a sitter, safe and sound.

Shea suddenly paused. Without a word he lowered himself to one. He ran a hand over the tracks before him. Shea stood and began following them, walking through brush easily. At some point he thought that he saw a flash of brown. As he walked Shea was sure to leave markers behind, so that he could find his way back.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[mogy]

| Oscar Waller | Clemsburrough Meadow | No Interactions | No Mentions |

The counselor of Cabin #1 was not particularly thrilled to visit the meadow because he was very good at marginally underestimating places for their names. In his mind, any place which had a magically sounding, majestic name was setting itself up for failure in living up to expectations. Perhaps that was why the fairylike events which were about to unfold in front of the unsuspecting counselor took place in a supposedly underwhelming spot such as the Clemsburrough Meadow.

The young man, Boston’s prime baked bean, was sporting a jacket on top of his usual attire as he slowly made his way out of the forest; the sparsity of the trees was good indication that the forest would soon be no more, but a city boy didn’t know what a meadow was, and so he’d no idea what to actually expect or if he would soon find himself in the right spot. The sun was weak today so it didn’t penetrate the stuffed clouds in the sky, and the temperature acted in accordance.

Hyde Park soaked and cooked held onto his jacket a little tighter as he entered the clearing between trees, stumbling on small rocks and large tree roots that found their way between his feet. He hadn’t been looking at the floor which made the accident partially his fault, but the view before him rightfully took all of the young man’s attention. On a rainy, gloomy, and gray day such as this one the meadow appeared to be an interlude covered in perfume of a warm summer’s day. The red and yellow flowers played their joint part: the warmth impersonating currently-absent rays of sun. The overwhelming light-blue and scarce white ones took role of a clear and peaceful sky while the mossy pile of rocks and boulders in the middle of the clearing represented nature not-distraught by an expectation of hail.

Oscar’s steps slowed until they eventually came to a stop. A deep breath in and a long sigh out. He turned around himself, slowly, trying to capture everything around him in his mind. Leaving his camera back in the cabin seemed like a stupid move now, but the beauty of the past lied in lack of its ability to change, and so he brushed off the thought; it would not distract from the more important; from the flowers, the moss, and the grass.

If the ground below his feet had not been damp, one would find the young man sitting on it until night came about. Well, no, probably not for so long, but he could imagine himself sitting for so long and to him that meant the same thing. Instead he contemplated taking a flower back with him to the cabin as a reminder to come here again. But choosing just one didn’t seem fair to the others while choosing more didn’t seem fair to the nature that grew them.

His thoughts did not go without judgement, of course, and the young man was painfully aware of just how dramatic he was being. Less dramatic than any of the book protagonists whose hysterics he was fond of yet failing to reach their charm. It felt foolish even comparing his conundrum to one of the ethic questions he remembered reading about but his mind was going 100 mph and he—

“Oh shit!” He yelled out as he noticed a poplar seed fluff flying towards him and then past him. Reaching for it, hoping to catch it and hopelessly failing was what followed after his words. Back when he was a kid, in a camp awfully similar to this one, he remembered one of the counselors telling him how catching these and making a wish would make it come true so nothing else remained but catching that white fluffy poplar seed dancing in the slightly cold breeze of the gloomy day.

Flocks of birds flew above, worms dug below, and an occasional insect flew past Oscar as he ran. The slight cold wind pushed his hair back but also made the seed indecisive in where it wanted to go. Up and up. All the way down to the ground. Sharp left and then almost immediately a just-as-sharp right. Then, once again, up and up.

“Oh, come on!” The young man cried out, trying to follow where the seed was going next. As it headed straight for the mossy rocks aforementioned, Oscar ran for them and quickly climbed up.

One jump, reach high;

miss.

Another jump, reach high;

miss.

Last chance, reach high;

SCORE!

A sigh of victory left Oscar’s mouth almost involuntarily when he made sure that he had caught the seed. “I’m definitely keeping you, you rascal.” He smiled before placing it into his pocket where it would be safe and sound. But this was no time for a victory dance.

The ground before Oscar’s feet shook violently, as if an earthquake of a great magnitude decided to hit just him because he touched the holy seed. It caused the twig-like man to quickly lose balance on the boulder he stood on and fall sharply onto the damp and muddy ground that managed to break his hard fall.

The moment he did fall two things happened.

1) The entire right part of his face was muddied alongside his jacket, his shirt, his pants and his shoes.

2) He realized that the ground was no longer moving. Which was odd because that wasn’t how earthquakes worked. And he didn’t just imagine the ground shaking, did he?

As he slowly turned around, there was virtually no reality in which he would’ve been able to predict what he was about to see. The mossy pile of rocks was not just a mossy pile of rocks. Well, it was, but it was also moving. Vibrating and defying physics all at the same time. A boulder and big rocks that used to be a pile now started to form some sort of man or statue and Oscar remained on the ground not sure what to think.

Was he losing his mind like his mom did? Was this what that felt like? Was the pile of stone actually just a bear or something? Was he about to die?

Oscar had so many questions running through his mind that it was hard to focus on the statuesque rock person object in front of him. It had limbs made of rock and eyes carved into one of the rocks. It was like something out of a cartoon except in real life and the young man didn’t have a single idea as to how he should’ve felt in that exact moment except muddy and scared.

The urge to speak to it, to beg it for mercy—strong, but his mouth emitted no sound in the moment. And the counselor remained more a statue than the one before him; than the one standing over him, looking at him with the carved eyes. And this eye contact remained for a second, then two and three.

Broken when Oscar caught more rocks moving in the corner of his eye. Small rocks. Pebbles and stones in shape of the boulder creature. Smaller and cuter, but scary enough to get Oscar to stand up from the mud.

“Dude, I— I don’t mean you any harm.” He clearly questioned talking to a boulder. Realizing his stature might have been coming across as dangerous, he put his hands up as if the boulder was a policeman. Or woman. Or, well, boulder. Policeboulder.

He slowly stepped back a few steps and the creature watched him do so. There was a moment where he thought of running, but everyone says not to run from bears, and if boulder people were a thing, everyone would say not to run from them either. They would also say ‘don’t climb them to catch pollen’, but hey, it was what it was.

When all the pebble versions of the boulder creature hid inside it’s moss, it turned around and started walking away, which caused Oscar to stop and stare.

“What the fuck.” Oscar shrugged. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Isaak Moon
Location: Fire Watch Tower B | Interactions: ?????| Mentions: elytra​

For a moment, as the door opened and the stranger came out to sweep the creatures away, Isaak was too baffled to do anything but stare. He continued to stare for a moment as the man set his broom down and addressed Isaak directly. And for a moment after Isaak continued to only be able to stare.

He had so many questions that he could not begin to sort through them mentally. What were those creatures? Why were they throwing rocks at the door? Why was he sweeping them away? Who was this guy? How long had he been living in the fire tower? Wasn't it supposed to be abandoned? What did he mean Isaak wasn't supposed to be there? What shop?????

"I, uh. I didn't know anybody was here," he finally managed. "What were those?" he asked, meaning the little creatures. It was probably not the most pressing of the questions he had, but it was the first one that came out.

 

[sadwizardvibes]

Marlo McCaffrey / Sunset Overlook Trail / @birdgeoisie​

A joke.

It had to be.

At least, he needed to pretend it was, for Xan’s sake. Marlo isn’t exactly an authority figure by any means, but he is supposed to know these woods, these trails. He’s supposed to know who is coming and going and pick up what they’ve left behind. It’s easy to get lost in the terror, palpable now between them. Terror tastes like metal and it’s heavy in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, she’s warm at his side and there’s a tremble in her hands as she picks up the photo that brings him back to where he needs to be: solid and sturdy.

Her anxiety makes his anxiety shrink. It’s weird, the way that it happens– but he doesn’t question it. The moment of uncertainty for him has passed, as far as being visibly worried. Marlo’s smile is kind and understanding, smirking a little towards the end, “If I was so scared I farted, that would be comedy brilliance. I’ll be lounging around the woods a lot though, so, you’ll get a second chance. I’ll keep the machete sheathed, no worries.”

Marlo steps back, taking the diary with him, plucking the photo from between her fingers and tucking it back in.

“It ain’t funny, I agree, but with people finally comin’ back to these parts, m’not so surprised, I guess, that someone– probably a few people, to be honest– wanted to fuck with the newcomers. In a fucked up way, makes sense. Probably filming it, sure we’ll be trending, or something.”

Marlo sort of believes it, because… what other explanation was there?

“I’ll hold onto it and make some phone calls, talk to security and groundskeepers, and tell everyone else to keep an eye out. Sound good?”

 

[dear.szmm]

Maya Sloan
Location: Seven Stones Trail | Interaction: cadence - Jerry | Mentions: none
​

Maya took the dinosaur-covered plaster between her thumb and forefinger, grimacing as she inspected it.

She sighed. “I suppose it will do.”

Maya applied the plaster, frowning as she secured it with her thumb. Jerry was the most quiet he’d been the entire run; Maya could finally distinguish the birdsongs and the flow of the stream close by. Being with Jerry wasn’t terrible – he spoke that much she barely had to feign interest. She wondered whether he would carry on with his outpourings if she wasn’t there; would he just continue to bestow every thought he had into the slight breeze and bending branches? Probably, she decided. He was like a golden retriever that was fascinated with every breath of life it experienced.

“There’s a key here,” he said, a few steps to the side of Maya, still shoving her foot back into her shoe, “What d’ya think it goes to? … Looks kinda old and… placed-there.”

“Uh-huh.” Maya replied, not looking up from her shoe. She was thinking about the waterfalls up ahead; they were steep, which was strange for a hard rock area. She wasn’t aware of any recent tectonic movements, or even any local fault lines that would cause any shifts in plates. Ideally she needed a sample, or even a few, but that would mean getting to the top of the source as well as the waterfall itself. It was an endeavour that would require some more planning, as well as some better shoes, and maybe a more reliable buddy.

Maya finally glanced over at Jerry, still looking over the key.

“Jesus, Jerry, give me that,” she said, holding out her palm, “you’ll get tetanus or something.”

He handed her the key, and she flipped it over in her hand. “Looks old as shit. Probably dropped by a hiker.”

She dropped the key into her pocket, standing to her feet. “C’mon then. At this rate, it'll be lunch by the time we get back.”

They set off again, as did Jerry’s mouth. Maya stayed quiet as he made his verbal observations, jabbering on about the key, wondering about the weather. Occasionally she would grunt or huff in acknowledgement, feeling somewhat guilty for being ignorant earlier. He was a kind soul, gentle in his words, and still eager for whatever he had ahead of him. It was an innocence Maya hadn’t come across in a long time.

As she jogged, half-heartedly listening to the overzealous boy, she looked through the trees ahead of her. It seemed they were thoroughly encompassed in nothing but broad, mossy trunks and sprawling branches, when suddenly something most strange caught her eye.

“Hey-” she interrupted, slowing her pace once again.

By this point it was clear she was not going to beat her personal best.

“Look at that – do you see? Is that a cabin?”

Maya came to a complete halt, frowning at the building beyond the trees. There was no clearing, no path, no sign of any inhabitants. Just a free standing building, two stories, coated in a peeling layer of faded azure blue. There was a porch, barely looking like it could hold itself up for much longer, and a battered door that looked just as ill-kept as the rest of the exterior.

“I swear, I didn’t notice that yesterday.” Maya declared, looking back at Jerry in disbelief. It was hardly easy to miss, a bright blue beacon amidst the forest.

“What the fuck, man,” she murmured, perplexed at the new finding, “You reckon it belongs to the camp? I didn’t know they had cabins out this far.”

 

[birdgeoisie]

scroll

a&c supervisor

xandria.

location

sunset overlook trail

interactions

marlo sadwizardvibes

mentions

n/a

Xan had to count her breathing. Ten in through the nose, ten out through the mouth, lips barely parted. She needed to focus on real things, so she wiggled her toes and felt the scrape of synthetic fibers against her skin, pushing up against rigid leather. When she shifted, the ground was soft and dipped. Some bird chittered softly in the distance, which must have meant there was no immediate threat.

The picture was removed from between her fingers, and the corner of her mouth twitched. She had never seen that photo, which meant she was certain her aunt would adore having it in her posession. Except it was in this stranger's possession, and grabbing it back or asking for it might look strange. As if her- admittedly overblown -reaction already wasn't strange enough. She could always steal it away later, if he planned on taking it.

At the very least, Xandria is thankful that they seem to be taking her behavior in stride. She was sure most people would be interrogating her. Or laughing. Or maybe Marlo was just keeping their judgements in their back pocket to talk about her behind her back later.

"Yeah." She nodded. The terror shakes seemed to be loosening up now, her position and motion returning to a practiced, lackadaisical languidity. "Yeah that'd be nice. Reassuring to know if there is some, I dunno, rabid killer out here, or something. Feels like an all-hands-on-deck situation."

She glanced out over the surrounding woods. What had felt free and serene moments before now pressed against her peace of mind. It felt like walls boxing her, and infinite, unpassable expanse all at the same time. Xan didn't want to be out here all alone. In fact, that was the very last thing she wanted. So though she didn't know the ranger, and it was possible they weren't the best company, they were company.

Xan reached up to brush some of her locs back over her shoulder. "Well this has royally fucked the zen energy I was hoping to get up here. I mean, how am I supposed to paint under this conditions." She stuck a hand into the tote and procured a brush, fist wrapped around the handle and waved it around. "Kind of a bust. But, uh- I don't really... want to walk back alone." Ugh, she sounded so pathetic. It made her feel gross. Not that being pathetic was anything new for her. "You busy, machete-man? Got more trails to clear and fucked up journals to fart at? Because if not, I wouldn't mind an escort. You know. In case of a Jason situation."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[elytra]

NPC Post
??? | Firewatch Tower B | Interacting with Isaak Moon ( wickedlittlecritta )
​

The man stared a moment. His eyes flickered briefly towards the creatures he'd just whacked off the platform, but for the most part stayed on Isaak, seeming to be contemplating an appropriate answer. In the end, though, he settled on a shrug, crossing his arms. His broom remained leaning on the banister next to him, as if he was keeping it within arms reach in case a few more of the shadows decided to try their luck.

"They probably didn't give you the run down of who lives around here. I wouldn't worry about it." It seemed unsurprising to him that his presence was an unknown, but also didn't seem to be keen on going about clearing anything up if he didn't have to. "Dunno what those things are. I call'um nibblets, though. That's the fun thing about things you don't know! You can name them whatever you want."

He leaned back, looking down towards the base of the tower where the creatures supposedly fell, before turning his attention back to Isaak. "They'll be fine. They're just annoying. Not the sort of neighbors you want, but better than some of the other things around here."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Isaak Moon
Location: Fire Watch Tower B | Interactions: ?????| Mentions: elytra​

Every word out of this strange man's mouth left Isaak with more questions than answers. Who was 'they'? Did the owners of Sunnyshores know that a guy was squatting in the fire tower?

If he was more responsible that would probably have been the line of questioning he went with, but Isaak found the stranger's last statement infinitely more concerning. "Better than other things around here?" he repeated, not moving from his spot on the porch. "What kind of other things?"

 

[sadwizardvibes]

Marlo McCaffrey / Sunset Overlook Trail / @birdgeoisie​

This girl was pretty weird– Marlo liked her.

Whether or not either of them believed the excuse Marlo had come up with, it brought a momentary comfort. For the next few minutes, they wouldn't have to wonder what happened, because they knew: a distasteful but well-thought-out prank. He wasn’t lying about calling around and getting in touch– maybe looking for an assistant would be beneficial now. Before, Marlo didn’t feel as if he would need help. Even now, he knows he could handle the forest on his own, but an extra body for security purposes never hurt– especially one who knew these woods and how they worked.

Marlo nods soundlessly, and if they were able to speak, the two would know they were having the same thought: how something so big and serene could feel so claustrophobic. Everything felt two inches to the left, and Marlo hated it. Xan knocks him out of his momentary stupor with the rising of a paintbrush and a single eyebrow raises.

“What, don't wanna paint me like one of your French girls, or somethin'? I can pose against that tree, right there," he nods his head at some lopsided, twisted trunk. "And watch where you wave that thing,” he says with a smirk, “next thing I know, this machete-man will have a dick drawn on his face. No offense, but you seem like the type.” He’s teasing, hoping to further diffuse the situation. The journal and photo are put away into a small satchel carrying some basic goods and first aid.

He’s happy to be asked to escort, “Honestly, I don’t wanna walk back alone either, so, it works out. Lucky for both of us, I’m done fartin’ at shit today.” Marlo offers a small smile, stands straight, and looks around one last time. No movement, no… nothing.

“C’mon, kid.” He has a feeling this will annoy her and he kind of hopes it does.

“And in case of a Jason situation, let’s make a deal– I’ll cut ‘im up but you can’t leave me behind. I have a feeling you run way faster than me. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, mouth quirked up, almost as if he was settling a challenge.

 

[birdgeoisie]

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a&c supervisor

xandria.

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sunset overlook trail

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Xan scoffed in immediate response, an eyebrow raised as she very obviously looked Marlo up and down. "Yeah-hah, paint you like a French girl?" It was a complete mockery of what he had said, filled to the brim with catty venom. "I painted a lot of nudes in my life and you'd be D-tier. At best. I'd be taking artistic liberties." Perhaps if there was a hint of sarcasm in her words, it would have been easy to brush off as a joke. But it was clear that wasn't her intent. Marlo wasn't necessarily the worst looking person she had seen, but there were certainly improvements that could be made. That vile part of her brain sparked up, and she didn't have the energy or desire to quell it.

She could only roll her eyes at the dick comment. Her? Draw a dick? "What is this, freshman year hazing bullshit? And pussy shit, too. No, if I wanted to be rude I'd be a lot more creative than that.". Her eyes linger on the journal, and where he's put them away. Maybe she shouldn't be letting the cruelty take the reigns, if she really did planning on stealing it back. It would be a lot hard to swipe it if Marlo was on alert around her.

"Well... good." Xan tucked the brush back into her tote. At least talking like this made things feel a little more normal. That sinking, crawling feeling was pretty easy to ignore if she focused on other things, like Marlo's dumbass comments. Kid? Normally serene and sullen features twisted up into aggravated disgust. It definitely annoyed her. A lot, actually, and she had to concentrate on taking a deep breath, nostrils flaring out.

She goes to follow him, stopped by the sudden appearance of a hand her way. She almost stumbles right into him, ready to power walk through the tight sensation of exasperation in her limbs. With eyebrow raised, looking rather doubtful, she glanced between the hand and Marlo's face. Christ, the dude looked so sincere, even if he was joking. It was a little sickening. But, also, if she bothered to wipe the mean girl veneer off, it was also a little comforting. Xan grasped his hand. "I think I'd be crazy to actually promise that, but I think if I say no, you're going to leave me out here to get jumped. So I'm gonna say 'I promise,' and just don't read into it, alright?" This time, it was a real tossup whether she was being truthful or jeering; a mixture of both, likely. She couldn't say for herself.

Giving the ranger's hand a firm shake, she keeps her grip to tug him along as she started down the trail with purpose. She had to be certain they were really going to follow, after all.

♡coded by uxie♡